


Text

by ltcommkat



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)
Genre: F/M, Original Villian, oc pairing, post OoTS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:24:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltcommkat/pseuds/ltcommkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo gets a random text from a wrong number, starting a relationship that is exactly the distraction he needs from the monotony of a villain free NYC. But when a gourmet chef gone mad starts to target the turtles, Leo will get all the excitement he and his brothers can handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wrong Number

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is a little rushed, and I might go back and spruce it up later, I just wanted to get it out. I've got the entire story outlined, and I'll continue writing it based off the response I get. So if you like it, let me know!

As he scaled the first building to the top, Leonardo took deep lungfulls of the polluted New York City air and grinned to himself. It was good to be out of the lair for the first time in days, good to be breathing air that wasn’t stale and stank of sewer. In no time at all he was situated on the roof, looking out over the city, scanning for trouble. He didn’t expect much, even though it was a Saturday and there were more people out than usual. He kept moving, leaping from one rooftop to the next, making a familiar path through the city on his usual patrol route.

Since their victory against Krang two years ago, the city had stayed pretty quiet. The Shredder was gone, sent to another dimension with Krang and his ship, and with Bebop and Rocksteady locked up there just weren’t any enemies left. Karai and the rest of the foot clan were seemingly in hiding. Anymore, the worst thing the turtles dealt with was petty theft, and boredom. Raphael, especially.

Leo paused to catch his breath on the top of an apartment building, looking at the streets below with mild interest. He was in no hurry to get back to the lair. Raph was in a mood again, and if Leo had learned anything with age, it was to pick his battles. He’d been trying harder over the last couple years to be more empathetic with his brothers, to be a more understanding leader, and mostly things had gotten better. He and Raph fought less often, and he was trying to be more patient with Michelangelo’s and Donatello’s eccentricities. It was day by day, but they were all growing and maturing together. Master Splinter was quite proud of how his boys had grown up, which was really all Leo needed.

As Leo got back to his feet and moved on to the last stretch of city on his patrol, he grudgingly admitted to himself that the boredom was getting to him, as well. There had been such a rush in being the hero, unsung though they were. He missed having a goal, something to go after, something to defeat. He refused to show how much it bothered him to be essentially collecting dust, as Raphael put it, but the feeling was there. All the training they did seemed to be for nothing lately, and truth be told he found himself wishing, just for a moment, that someone new would step up to the plate. Leo craved a challenge, something to push him and his brothers. But that also meant people would be in danger, lives besides his own would be at stake, so whenever he caught himself missing the old days he’d scold himself and set an extra hour of training as a punishment for his selfishness.

The lair was mostly quiet by the time Leo was coming down the main tunnel into the commons room. Raph and Mikey were probably in bed, as late as it was, and Donnie was undoubtedly in his lab working on some experiment. He didn’t bother checking on them like he used to when he was younger, and instead headed straight for his room.

 Patrol duty had Leo especially wound up that night. He felt like he could have been out for hours longer, been around the entire city if he’d wanted to, if only for the physical challenge. But he knew that being out for too long was risky, and better judgment had won out. It was late, too late for practicing his katas or training. He would have to calm himself down with some meditation, instead. He sighed as he positioned himself on his bed, crossing his legs and relaxing his shoulders. Energy was humming through him, begging him not to be sitting still, but he ignored it and concentrated harder.

After only about ten minutes he was startled out of his thoughts by a loud ringing coming from the other corner of his room. He scrambled out of his bed, going to see what the source of the noise was. He followed it to his bookshelf, where sitting on one shelf was a small cell phone, its screen lit up and ringing away.

Donnie had given him the phone as a safety measure, insisted that he keep it on him. “Mostly so April can easily get a hold of any of us,” he’d reasoned, tossing it at Leo. He’d caught it easily, placed it on the shelf in his bedroom, and promptly forgot about it.

Until now, several weeks later, when it had started ringing. He studied it a moment, unsure if he should answer or just ignore it. It rang again, the sound of an old rotary phone. He picked it up and stared at the screen. It was a number Donnie hadn’t programmed into the contacts list. He let it ring until the machine picked up. He waited, but whoever it was didn’t leave a message, so he shrugged and set the phone back down.

After a few minutes, it went off again, a different noise this time, like the ding of a timer.

Leo picked it up again. It was a basic flip phone, pre-paid, no internet access or anything unnecessary. Donnie had figured he wouldn’t need any extras anyway. He flicked it open and examined the screen, trying to figure out how to open the text he’d just gotten.

_Are we still on for tonight?_

At first, he was just going to delete it. Then he figured he might as well let them know they had the wrong person, if only so they wouldn’t keep texting him and interrupting his meditation.

_I believe you have the wrong number._ Short, to the point. He set the phone down again, thinking that would be the end of it, but the second his back was turned the phone _ding_ ’ed again. He sighed and took it back to bed with him.

_Well shit. What’s your name then?_

“Huh…” Leo debated not answering, but eventually shrugged. What’s the harm, really?

_My name is Leo._

He waited, keeping his eyes on the phone. When it went off he hit the open button immediately.

_Leo, huh? Sounds hot._ He snorted, not expecting such bluntness. He was about to reply, when another message came through. _I’m Samantha, but you can call me Sam._

 ~~~

Samantha Thomas sat perched on the edge of a rickety folding chair on her tiny New York City apartment balcony, staring at her phone. In her other hand was a wrinkled napkin with a phone number scrawled on it, which she’d typed into the ‘To:’ bar of a blank text message. She was debating whether or not to even type out the message, still not sure she had the energy to go back out after her double shift at the bar.

The guy who had given her the number had been nice enough, if a little eager. He’d spent most of the night at the bar, shamelessly trying to get her attention and ignoring the buddies he’d come in with. She’d relented finally and accepted his number, giving him a firm maybe. She knew already that it would just be a onetime thing, which she was completely comfortable with. He would be good for a night of fun, then easy to forget in the morning. And he _had_ been pretty cute…

She sighed and ran a hand through her long, dark hair, putting her phone down so she could light a cigarette and take a couple drags, then picked it up and backed out of the empty text. She dialed the number and waited for it to start ringing.

It rang on and on, and she wondered if he’d gone to sleep already. It was just after two, so it would be fair. She hung up just as the automated answering machine picked up. She’d send a quick text, and if he didn’t answer it was no big deal. She was almost relieved, knowing that she wouldn’t have to leave again. She was putting her cigarette butt out and getting up to head inside when her phone buzzed. She started thinking of excuses to get out of it, having resigned to staying in at this point, when she opened the text.

_I believe you have the wrong number_.

“Huh,” she mumbled to herself, wondering if she’d copied the number down wrong. She compared the napkin to the one she’d dialed, and sure enough they matched. She shrugged it off and was about to delete the text, but on a whim she typed out a reply and sent it. She definitely wasn’t going out again, but she wasn’t going to bed anytime soon, either. Might as well fill the time with something more than just cigarettes.

_My name is Leo_.

“Very direct, Leo,” she said to herself after she read his reply. She wondered if she was bothering him, or if she woke him up. She supposed if he didn’t want to talk he’d just stop answering, and sent a reply more on the flirty side to test the waters. Then before he could reply she sent one more, telling him her name.

_What has you up so late, Sam?_

She smiled, and lit another cigarette before typing out an answer. She leaned back on the folding chair, enjoying the warm summer night, and was grateful for the way her evening had turned out.

~~~

Grumbling to himself angrily, the head chef for Rose Rouge hit the lights to the huge commercial kitchen and let himself out the back door. He hated the weekends, hated being rushed, hated all the uncultured fools that didn’t appreciate his culinary genius the way he felt they should. He hated this city, loud and putrid and overpopulated. His muttering continued as he made his way to his car, quietly voicing his distaste for pretty much the entirety of the human race as he squeezed his overweight self into the driver seat of an overpriced, flashy sports car.

He peeled out of the parking lot and into traffic, cutting someone off, all the while thinking how he wouldn’t be at all upset if the entire horrid city were to burn to the ground.


	2. Late Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback. Sorry it took so long, I usually do all my writing at work but it's been a bit busy lately. Shouldn't take me that long for the next chapter. Hope you like this one!

Exact time didn’t mean much to the turtles, so Leo wasn’t sure just how early his internal clock was set for. He was usually up early enough every day that he was the first one, unless Donnie just hadn’t gone to bed the night before. It was early enough that when he checked his phone, he didn’t expect any new messages from Sam.

She had sent one around 3 AM, _Can’t sleep, cigarette break!_

He rolled his eyes, wondering how deep her addiction ran. The bulk of their conversations over the last week were late at night, and she’d always let him know she was available by saying she was on her balcony, smoking. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, as he’d never actually known any smokers.

They’d been texting every day so far, and Leo had to admit he didn’t mind it. Sam broke up the monotony that was his life lately, with no villain to go after. Also, he enjoyed having something that he didn’t have to share with his brothers. She made him feel normal, almost. She certainly assumed he was a normal guy, and why should she think otherwise?

They had gone through all the basics with each other, mostly because she was constantly asking random questions. He knew they shared their favorite color, blue. Her favorite food was ice cream. She had a tattoo, a vine with flowers running down her spine she’d said, which he was half tempted to ask for a picture of. She was very honest and forthcoming with information, or at least he assumed. A small part of him knew this person could be a middle aged man. He hoped not, but either way it didn’t quite matter. It wasn’t like he’d be pushing to meet any time soon.

He stayed in bed an extra moment or two, more groggy than usual. He’d stayed up later than usual talking to her every night, and it was beginning to take a toll. He told himself he’d go to bed early that night, he’d let Sam know so she wouldn’t text him. Thinking about a night without messaging her should have relieved him, yet surprisingly he felt a pang of unease at not having that contact. He shook his head and finally got out of bed, pulling on everything he’d need for training. He debated whether or not to bring the phone with him, growing frustrated with his attachment to it so soon. He ended up shoving it in his pocket before heading out into the tunnel leading to the dojo.

No one else was in the dojo as he entered, which was normal. He did his stretching, slowly pulling the sleep out of his muscles, all the while feeling the burn of the cell phone in his pocket. He started some light cardio, adamant about distracting himself from it. He was relieved when Donatello and Michelangelo trudged into the dojo, still rubbing the sand from their eyes.

“Where’s Raph?” he asked, sliding easily into the role of leader. Raph was usually the last to show up, somehow having the most difficulty in the mornings dragging himself out of bed.

Donnie downed his first cup of coffee, and then typed something into his wristwatch. “On it,” he said, nodding to Leo. From the other end of the lair, in the direction of Raphael’s room, an alarm sounded. It whooped and hollered, sounding like a security alarm more than an alarm clock. After a moment, the sounds of an angry red-clad turtle could be heard headed in their direction. The three in the dojo stifled their chuckles and did their best to hide their grins when Raph barreled in like a bull, ready to charge whoever was responsible for disturbing him so violently.

“What the hell Donnie?!” Raph looked about ready to strangle his brother.

Donatello backed up a few feet as Raphael took a step toward him. “It must have been a glitch!” His attempt to seem innocent might have worked if only he had hidden the humor in his eyes better. He pulled his staff out and took a defensive stance as Raph kept coming.

“You’re late,” Leo said, getting Raph’s attention.

Raph glanced at him, annoyed, but he had been working harder over the last couple years to control himself, same as his brother. Eventually he just shrugged and stretched his arms over his head, popping his joints loudly.

“Well I’m here now, so let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.

Training went as well as ever. Leonardo led them through a few basic drills, and then they all split up to practice individually. Leo worked through every swing of his sword, every step, offensive and defensive strikes one by one. At this point it all came naturally, as easily and instinctually as breathing. He settled into the routine of it, focusing only on the next movement. He was not thinking about the phone.

That is until it flew out of his pocket after a particularly complicated maneuver, landing on the hard mat a few yards away with a _thunk_ that echoed through the dojo. Leo froze, staring at it. Slowly, he moved to retrieve it, ignoring the strange looks from his brothers. They probably wouldn’t have asked about it, except at that exact moment it went off, letting him know that Sam had sent him a message.

Leo leaped for the phone, but was too slow. Raph snatched it up and held it above his head triumphantly. Before he could get a word out Leo was airborne, throwing himself at his brother. They collided hard and tumbled to the ground, and Leo used the confusion to pry the phone out of Raph’s hand. He rolled away quickly, crouching low defensively.

Raphael scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off. “Jeez Leo,” he huffed, trying to keep his tone light. Donnie and Mikey were watching from the other side of the room, clearly confused.

Leo straightened, clearing his throat. “Uh, sorry, Raph.” He refused to explain his actions to them. He wasn’t even sure what he’d say if he tried. “Good work today, guys. I’ll uh, see you around.” He backed up awkwardly, retreating to his room. Training wasn’t technically over, but he didn’t want to deal with the questions.

Once in his room, door locked, he kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t have behaved like that. He hadn’t thought about it, he’d just reacted. He just didn’t know how to explain to them that he had a friend that they didn’t know about, if he could actually call what he had with Sam friendship. Could you call a handful of texts a friendship? He wondered what she would consider him.

Shaking his head, he opened the phone to check the message.

_Nothing like waking up to a call from work, letting you know you have to come in on your day off…_

Leo moved to his bed, crossing his legs under him as he typed out his reply.

_That’s too bad. I’ve got the whole day to myself._

He hit send, wondering if maybe that was a bit insensitive, but it was too late now. He only had to wait a moment for her reply.

_It is too bad. I was gonna tell you about the wet dream I had about you, but now I’ll be too busy._ There was a winky face after the message.

Leo sat frozen, re-reading the message over and over to make sure he’d seen it correctly. Before he could even think of replying, another text came through; just a quick _talk to you later_ to let him know the conversation was over.

~~~

As soon as Sam hit send, she regretted it. It was too forward, too soon, and she was going to ruin the one simple thing in her life. Before he could reply, she shut the conversation down and threw her phone on the bed, pointedly ignoring it as she got ready for work.

She dug through the laundry basket of clean clothes for her favorite leggings and a plain black tee shirt. She wasn’t happy about having to go in to work, but she needed the money. Living by herself in New York City was not cheap, she had found out after leaving her wealthy family behind to try to make it on her own. She felt like all she did was work and it was just enough to scrape by, but she was completely independent for the first time in her life and she liked it that way.

The bar she worked at was a little hole-in-the-wall type place just a few blocks from her apartment called Louis’. When she’d gotten to the city, alone and with close to no money left after finding a place to live, she’d applied to everything within walking distance. The only place to call her back was this bar, only offering her minimum wage and an irregular schedule, but it was a job at least. Two years later, the pay was still crap, the hours still long, but it was the closest thing to a family she had, and she had no eyes for greener pastures.

When she was dressed and ready to go, she grabbed her phone last and shoved it in her purse, not brave enough to check to see if Leo had responded. She liked Leo so far, though he could be a little serious. She had asked his age and he’d claimed he was twenty-one, but she had suspicions that he was much older based off the way he texted, always using perfect grammar and punctuation. The real tipoff had been that she’d needed to explain ‘lol’ to him. She let it slide though, figuring it didn’t matter really since it was just a text relationship. She had no interest in finding out who was on the other end.

Louis’ was empty when she walked in, save for her manager who waved a greeting while going over the till from the night before one more time. It was only 9am and the bar didn’t open until noon, so until then she would be putting away the shipment of booze they’d gotten in that morning. It was a lot of heavy lifting, and took her the better part of the morning.

Putting away bottles wasn’t exactly distracting work though, and she kept remembering the text she’d sent to Leo. She cringed each time she thought about it. What was she thinking? Any flirting had been PG at most up until that point, then BAM. She hadn’t even thought about it, the words basically typing themselves. She supposed that she just wasn’t used to a platonic friendship with a guy, and it was only a matter of time before one of them brought up the more racy topics.

She finally had to check her phone to see his reaction, but there were no new messages. She wondered what that could mean. She was just about to text him again, when she heard her name being called from the bar. Sam put her phone away without hitting send, and went out to the front.

The girl standing at the bar was a tall, strawberry blonde and she was smirking at Sam as she came up behind the bar. “What’s it take to get some service around here?”

“Cass, it’s only 11:50,” Sam said, but got a glass from the shelf below the counter and made a vodka cranberry for her anyway.

“The door was unlocked,” Cass shrugged, eagerly accepting the drink and taking a small sip. She lifted herself up to sit on one of the bar stools, crossing her arms on the bar top. “So what’s new?”

Sam pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, raising a brow at her friend. “Since last night? Nothing.” Cassidy was a regular at Louis’, there more days than not. She had one of those personalities that were difficult to resist, and despite Sam’s walls she had always been more open with Cass. Then one night they’d gotten more drunk than usual and Sam found herself spilling all the details about her family and why she’d left. Cass had watched her the whole time, knowing that Sam didn’t open up to just anyone, and didn’t show her pity after she finished talking, just raised a glass and made a toast to freedom. Since then, Cass was really the only person she considered a friend. She was nice to everyone, but kept her distance.

“Last night was a total bust,” Cass said, taking another sip of her drink. “Ended up going home with Rob, only to find out that he “forgot to get condoms”,” she said, making air quotes with her fingers and rolling her eyes. Sam snorted.

“Men are pigs,” Sam said. Just then her phone buzzed in her back pocket, and she tried not to think about the rush she got when she saw it was Leo.

_Hope work is going well._

“So then of course _I’m_ the bad guy for not just sleeping with him anyway,” Cass went on. Sam was staring at the message on her phone until Cass snapped her fingers to get her attention. Sam shook her head to clear it, sticking her phone back in her back pocket. “I know that smile,“ Cass said, smirking. “Who is he?”

“I wasn’t smiling,” Sam said, grabbing the now-empty glass between them and pouring more vodka in.

“Were so! Your face lit right up!” Cass’s eyes were bright with humor. One of her favorite things to do was butt into Sam’s love life, or lack there-of, she liked to point out. To which Sam would always remind her that she wasn’t any better when it came to guys. Neither of them were crazy about being tied down, and were known for being flaky when men started talking long-term.

Sam relented, pushing the fresh vodka cranberry to her friend. “Just this guy I’ve been texting,” she said. She was looking at Cass with a straight face, serious eyes, trying to prove that it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ve never met him, don’t know what he even looks like or if he’s even really a guy at all,” she said, shrugging. “He’s just… nice, I guess.”

Cass stared at her a moment. “Nice… you guess.” She turned her face away, stifling a chuckle.

Sam turned away. “Just forget about it, it’s nothing anyway.”

“No, no!” The blonde reached across the bar, grabbing for Sam’s arm but missing. She stayed slumped over the bar, laughing. “I’m sorry, it’s cool that you like mysterious text guy.”

“I don’t _like_ him. He’s just a person.”

She tried to sound convincing, but she knew better. Some part of her did like Leo, whoever he was. It was comforting to have him around, only ever as far as her pocket.

And that scared her. The second she thought the word comfort, it left a sour taste in her mouth. She pulled her phone out, the text still open, and made the decision to step back. She held the power button until the phone shut off, and looked up with a smile as Cass was finishing her drink.

~~~

Leo sat on the ledge of a rooftop, looking down at the street below. There were several people walking by, but he wasn’t worried about being seen.

He’d never heard back from Sam. It bothered him that this had an effect on him. He kept the phone in his pocket, stubbornly refusing to check it. She’s just busy, he told himself. She has a life also, and no obligations to him at all.

He stared at the people walking on the streets below, and for the first time in a while, wished he could be one of them.

Shaking his head, he hefted himself up. He was being silly. All this was useless. Brushing himself off, he crouched low and jumped off the roof, landing nimbly on the one below.

~~~

Chef Phillip Andrepont hated the restaurant he worked at. He hated his underlings, who never listened to him, who talked behind his back, who made fun of him. Talentless hacks, all of them. They were all just jealous of his gift, his success.

He let himself out the back at closing like always, muttering to himself. “I am the best damn chef in this God forsaken city, but do they show me a lick of respect?” He laughed to himself bitterly, standing on the back stoop alone.

The rest of the staff had been on his nerves all day. He caught them whispering amongst themselves, choking on laughter when he would snap at them. This had been going on for weeks, but today it came to an ugly outburst. All the help and even some of the customers had heard him go off on his tirade, but he didn’t care one bit. It was time he was treated with the respect he deserved.

_“You all would be NOTHING without me!”_ He’d stalked over to a stack of dishes and shoved them all to the floor. He then yelled at the stunned kitchen staff to clean it up while he took a break.

After he had calmed down and gone back to the food, he had caught the managers staring at him through the window on the swinging doors that lead into the kitchen. They wanted him gone, he knew it. They were jealous as well, because he was the reason this sorry excuse for a restaurant was even still open. Philip had a right to make demands, had a right to want things _his_ way.

He was about to get in his car when something caught his eye, high up, near the roof of the building. It was a figure, a man, sitting with his legs swinging over the edge. He was high up enough that Phillip had to squint to make out any details. He watched as the man stood, then leaped from the roof top to the one adjacent the restaurant. Phillip blinked his eyes, bewildered for a moment.

He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the man had a very large… turtle shell? That couldn’t possibly be right. But it was, he knew it. That man was wearing a giant turtle shell.

Just then, an idea struck Phillip.


	3. Will She or Won't She

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thanks for your patience and all the kind words and kudos. I'm glad you guys are enjoying this. :)

Usually, Leonardo’s dreams were fleeting, practical, and short. He envied Mikey sometimes, who always had long, complicated dreams to share with his brothers over breakfast, waving his hands around wildly as he described in detail the fantasy worlds his brain had created. If Leo dreamed, it was like watching clips of his everyday life; swinging his swords during training, snippets of an argument with Raphael, meditating in his room. He worried sometimes if something was wrong with his mind, or if maybe he just was too focused on real life.

That night, however, Leo dreamed he was on patrol. He moved silently through the city, feeling the wind whip around him as he sailed through the air. He was searching for something, but he wasn’t sure what. His eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in the information and filtering through, searching for any hints as to what he was even trying to find. He always felt like it was right around the next corner, but he would get there and there would be nothing. He didn’t wake suddenly, instead just slowly seeped from the dream into reality, nowhere near any kind of resolution. It left him aggravated and groggy.

Leo was in that sort of half-sleep when the phone _ding!’_ ed, letting him know he’d gotten a text. He didn’t react right away, trying to decide whether it was real or not, and it took him several minutes to pull himself out of the dark clouds his dreaming had left him in. The text, no surprise, was from Sam.

_How can you stand being up this early all the time?_

He stared at the words longer than should have been necessary. She never answered him from the previous day, and he’d spent half the night wondering if he’d said something wrong. The thought that she might be in danger had crossed his mind, but he pushed it away stubbornly, knowing he had no way of finding her even if he did somehow find out she was in trouble. He spent the night tossing in bed, frustrated without even knowing why, and had apparently carried that on into his subconscious as well.

He debated briefly whether he should answer her, or make her wait. He sighed, uncomfortable with the thought of playing games like that, even if she seemed to be able to.

_It’s not so bad. It’s quiet. How come you’re up?_

He stayed in bed, waiting for her reply with his eyes closed. He didn’t have to wait long.

_Just couldn’t sleep. Had a bad dream._

Leo typed out his reply quickly. He was finally getting used to the buttons.

_Huh, me too._

While he didn’t want to play mind games, he also wanted to hint that he was a bit upset. She ended up dropping the subject for an easier one.

_Got plans for today?_

_Just the usual. Work, chores. You?_

He had told her that he worked security, leaving out for which company, and she hadn’t really bothered him for more. He supposed that if he had to put a title on what he and his brothers did, it would be some form of security. She probably pictured a broad, muscular guy in a black tee shirt that read ‘SECURITY’ on the back, and Leo had chuckled at the thought that she’d only be partially wrong.

_I’ve got the day off, so mostly just hanging out at home. Then later I’ve got a date._

Leo froze as he read that last part. He had no claim on her, not even close, but thinking about her going on dates, talking to someone new… He was uncomfortable with the unjustified jealousy that washed over him so suddenly.

He forced himself to type out a quick _Have fun_ , not caring if he sounded a bit salty.

 He looked up at his door as he heard his brothers in the dojo, getting ready for training. Had it really gotten that late? He dressed quickly, strapping his swords to his shell easily as he walked out into the hallway, leaving his phone on the bed that, even in a rush, he’d taken the time to make up. Leo came in and started stretching, pointedly ignoring his brother’s odd looks. Even Raph had beaten him to there, which almost never happened.

 Donnie and Mikey exchanged looks before shrugging. Leo sleeping in every once in a while was something they could forgive easily enough. Though they had noticed some odd behavior lately, they had faith in their brother. Raphael, however, was suspicious, especially after yesterday’s episode. Something was definitely up with Leo, but for once Raph didn’t want to push too hard. Leo obviously didn’t want to talk about it, evident by the way he didn’t miss a beat after stretching, throwing himself right into some light cardio. If anyone knew what it was like to want to keep something just for himself, it was Raph.

Leo tried to focus. His brothers didn’t bug him about sleeping in, which was helpful, but his mind just wouldn’t hang onto his training the way it usually did. The frustration he felt from his odd dream kept seeping back in, so that even clean strikes with his katanas seemed unsatisfying. He started over-thinking his movements instead of just letting them flow through, setting him up to make more mistakes. Sets that he’d gone through a million times didn’t feel right anymore, so he compensated by pushing himself even harder.

The image of Sam that Leo had created in his head kept flickering before his eyes. He imagined long dark hair, and dark eyes that he could get lost in. He kept seeing her face, her mouth moving, saying she was going on a date except he couldn’t hear her voice. The image of the text on his phone’s screen flashed over and over. Then somehow it changed, morphed in his mind to add the words _with someone normal_ at the end.

At that point, Leo’s frustration came to a head and he lost control of himself midair, hitting the ground awkwardly on his plastron. His brothers rushed forward, Raph hefting him up into a sitting position.

“That’s it,” the red-clad turtle exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest, “fess up.”

Leo stood, brushing himself off. He kept his voice calm when he spoke, determined not to lose any more control over himself. “Leave it alone, Raph.” He moved to brush past his brother, but Raph caught his arm and held on.

“You ain’t yourself, Leo.”

Leo finally looked Raph in the eye, catching him off guard as he jerked his arm free without breaking eye contact.

“I’m fine,” Leo replied, his tone low. Once again, he walked out of the dojo before training was over.

What he’d wanted to say to his brothers was that he didn’t _feel_ like himself. He’d wasted so much time over the last 24 hours, not to mention the last few weeks, thinking about a girl he could never have. He knew how it was going to go now that she had someone in the real world; she’d stop texting Leo, and forget about the fantasy friendship they’d built up. And Leo would be left, still swinging swords around in the sewers of New York waiting for the next Bad Guy to come along so they could save the city in secret again.

He was making his way to his room to meditate a while when Master Splinter stepped out of the shadows and into his path.

“I saw what happened during training, my son,” he said, watching his eldest carefully with his large, black eyes.

Leo sighed, his shoulders dropping in defeat. He could dodge his brother, no problem, but not Master Splinter. The old rat could see right through him, could weasel out any and all of his secrets with ease. Leo didn’t bother trying to withhold anything, just lead his sensei to his room and plopped down on the bed, the springs of the weathered mattress whining. Splinter waited patiently for him to start.

“I’ve… begun to really realize lately just how… Separate we are.” He was struggling for the words to describe feelings he really didn’t understand yet.

“Separate,” Splinter repeated slowly, nodding for Leo to keep going.

Leo sighed again, frustrated with himself for getting into this situation in the first place. He should have never answered that first text.

“It’s just that there are so many things that we won’t ever get, even with how far we’ve come, and the rest of life just seems… Long, suddenly.” He’d never actually thought these things before, but as he spoke he realized it was all how he truly saw it. Talking to Sam, and now probably losing Sam, made him realize that there just wasn’t much to look forward to anymore. Sam had given him something to look forward to each day, something outside the norm, and continuing without that was going to be difficult.

“I am assuming you are referring to the human girl you’ve been communicating with,” the old rat said, catching Leo off guard. Before he could ask how he’d known, Splinter waved his hand dismissively. “Lucky guess,” he explained, smirking as best he could with the way his mouth was shaped.

Leo looked away, his face heating up slightly. “I should have known better,” he confessed. “We aren’t normal, and no one wants a relationship over the phone.”

Splinter ran his claws through his scraggly beard thoughtfully. “Miss April accepts you the way you are. Even the police accept you, since you have proven yourself to them. This phone girl would do the same.” He sounded sure of himself, like there was no question.

Leo almost snorted, wanting to say that April would never want to _date_ one of them, but kept his mouth shut. He hadn’t even known he really liked Sam until she’d sent that one text, opened that door, and now suddenly he’d lost her. It was all moving so fast, his head was spinning.

Splinter moved to leave the room, wanting to give Leo his space. Right before he walked out of the room, he half turned to look at his son. “This life doesn’t have to be just what you are given, Leonardo. It can be what you make it, also.” He closed the door behind him quietly.

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Sam took her sweet time getting ready, staying in the shower longer than usual, and being extra careful applying the little makeup she wore on special occasions. She spent several long moments just staring into her closet deciding what to wear, and with which shoes. She switched out the bar in her left eyebrow with one that was less obvious, and chose a shirt with a low neckline all around so that the tattoo on her spine peaked out just a bit. She left her hair long and flowing, thanking good genes for the natural wave it had.

Despite the lazy pace she’d taken, she was ready with still at least a half hour before she was supposed to meet Jon at the restaurant she’d suggested. It was a quiet little Italian place a few blocks away that had lots of ambiance and few people on a weeknight. After so many days at Louis’ a quiet night was exactly what she needed, and her date seemed nice enough. She’d met him while she was working the day before, and the timing just seemed right. What better way to prove that she wasn’t attached to Leo than to see someone else?

She’d brought it up to Leo more for herself, trying to close a door with him that she hadn’t meant to open in the first place. She hadn’t expected to feel that bad about it, but his curt reply had cut a little deeper than she was comfortable with. She’d spent the rest of the day checking her phone and shoving her disappointment back when there were no new messages. The last 24 hours had been exhausting for her, and all because of someone she’d never even met.

Checking her phone again, she noticed that it was almost time to head out. Against her better judgment, she opened the conversation with Leo and swiped down to reread some of the older texts from the last couple weeks.

_Tell me a joke._

She’d sent that in the middle of the day once while it was slow at work.

_Hmm. Knock knock._

She had rolled her eyes, but played along.

_Who’s there?_

_A broken pencil._

She had pursed her lips as she replied, trying to figure it out before he could answer.

_A broken pencil who?_

_Oh never mind, it’s pointless._

She’d snorted and called him a dork, and he’d replied with a smiley face with the tongue sticking out. Thinking back on it, Sam realized there just weren’t any people she could be silly with. Even Cass, who wasn’t exactly the most serious person, demanded a sort of maturity from everyone around her, probably unwittingly, but still. She didn’t expect jokes from Sam, and that just wasn’t the person she was around Cass.

A sense of loss washed over her as she reread more texts. How could she be missing someone she’d never had? It didn’t seem right.

Impulsively, perhaps her fingers rebelling against her, she sent Leo a text.

_Knock knock._

There wasn’t time to wait for his reply anymore, so she slipped her shoes on and headed for the door. It was a quick walk to the restaurant, and when she got there her date was waiting patiently outside. His face lit up when he caught sight of her. He really did have a nice smile.

“You look beautiful,” he said, eyes warm and sincere. Sam had a way of not trusting sincerity. Sincerity made people drop their guards.

“Thanks,” she said as he went in for a quick hug, and then led her into the restaurant by the hand. They were seated, and without looking at the menu he ordered a bottle of wine that she probably wouldn’t have been able to pronounce.

“Impressive,” she said with slightly raised brows.

He looked almost embarrassed, smiling sheepishly. “I’m no connoisseur; I just know what I like.” Sam shrugged, watching him as he studied the menu. She had to admit, he was pretty cute.

“So, Jon, what do you do?” The waitress came by with their wine, and she accepted her glass graciously. She took a small sip. It was sweet and crisp, and despite not being much of a wine person she liked it quite a bit.

Jon sipped his wine quickly before answering. “Right now I’m finishing up school, going for a business degree,” he said. She liked that while he was talking to her he made the effort to look her in the eye.

“Ahh, a student. Which school?”

“Hudson U.”

Sam resisted the urge to chuckle. A business degree from Hudson University was exactly the path her parents had chosen for her. They’d gone through several hoops and pulled all the right strings to get her an appointment with the right person in the admissions office, not that she’d really needed the help. That was the angriest she’d ever made them, when they found out she never made it to the appointment. It wasn’t long after that she’d left, leaving just a note for her parents.

They ordered their meals, and covered the basic first date topics. Jon was sweet, attentive, attractive, and had a way of having all the right answers. Sam was surprised at how much they had in common. He even confessed that he’d seen her at Louis’ a few times before he had the courage to actually talk to her. Sam rolled her eyes playfully at him.

As nice as Jon was, and as perfect as he seemed, Sam held herself back. This was exactly the kind of guy she could see herself really liking, which set off all the warning bells. Most of the guys she’d dated were more like her-just looking for a hookup, nothing serious. She was comfortable with that, no strings attached. Feelings were more difficult to swallow.

“So,” Jon said as they were leaving the restaurant. “You mentioned you live nearby. Would it be okay if I walked you home?”

Sam considered it a moment, but quickly decided that she didn’t have the heart to lead him on, even if it had been a while since she’d invited anyone back to her place…

“I think I’ll be alright.” She felt a pang of guilt seeing the flash of disappointment in his warm, chocolaty-brown eyes. “But thanks, I had fun tonight.” Jon nodded, seeming to understand the message she was sending.

“I’ll call you later,” he said, stepping forward for one last hug. Even his hugs were perfect, not awkward or too tight. Sam almost changed her mind about not inviting him home. He gave her a small smile before turning and heading the opposite direction as her.

Sam sighed, digging out the pack of cigarettes from her purse. She lit one up before she started walking, and out of habit checked her phone. Still no reply from Leo. She walked slowly toward her apartment building, taking the occasional drag from her cigarette. She’d grown so used to having Leo around, it felt wrong that she was hesitating with him the way she was. Maybe having one small crutch wasn’t such a horrible idea…

_Hi._

She hit send before she could change her mind. She could let herself have something to hold onto, she decided.

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Leo had spent the day meditating in his room, feeling like a bit of space was what he needed. He had meant to answer the text from Sam, wishing he could ignore the subtle changes in their relationship, but ultimately he decided that space from her could do him good, as well. He planned on ignoring the one that just came through, also, when it occurred to him that she was supposed to be on a date instead of texting him.

_A bit early, isn’t it?_

He worried that that sounded harsh.

_Yeah, the date was a bit of a dud._

Leo smiled without meaning to. This shouldn’t make him happy, but the fact that she’d had a bad date and came right back to him made little tendrils of hope well up before he could stop them.

_Sorry to hear that._

He wasn’t sure what she’d say next, but he was glad to have a long night of messages ahead of him.

_Can I call you? I want to hear your voice._

Leo’s eyes widened, staring at the words on his screen. Call him? He’d never even considered that before. What would they even talk about? His heart was racing. He hadn’t expected to ever be put in this situation, but it made sense that she would eventually want more than just texting. What if it was too much? What if he didn’t know what to say?

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Despite his reservations, he was curious what her voice sounded like as well. There was also the chance that if he said no, she’d shut him out again, and that was worst case scenario at this point.

Taking a few more deep breaths, Leo cleared his throat and hit the green call button on the phone, holding it to his face uncertainly. While it was ringing, he nearly chickened out, but then-

_“Hello?”_

Her voice was clear and melodious, the kind that always went along with a pretty face. Leo was caught off guard by it.

“Uh, hi, Sam?” It was odd saying her name out loud. It was odd talking on the phone with someone. He’d have to remember to keep his voice down so his brothers didn’t come to investigate.

_“Leo. Wow, you sound…”_ She paused, and he heard her take a puff of her cigarette and exhale. _“exactly like I thought you would,”_ she finished, and he could hear the coy smile in her voice.


	4. The Maddening of Chef Phillip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me this long to update, and after so long this is probably going to disappoint you because there's no turtles. But it's important to the story, so I had to. I promise that the next chapter won't take nearly as long, because I'm going to start it tomorrow and it's a ton of fluff, and it's a super long chapter so I hope that will make up for my absence lol Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, you have no idea what it means to me :)

Bringing the bottle of chardonnay to his mouth, Phillip screwed his eyes shut and gulped the dry wine down. He was breathing heavily when he finally finished the bottle, dropping it clumsily on the floor beside him with the other bottle he’d finished off before that one. He wiped the wine that had dribbled down his chin away with the back of his arm. Not usually much of a drinker, he let his head loll back and to the side, surprised by the bout of dizziness this motion brought on. Despite his thoughts getting fuzzier as the alcohol kicked in, he was still quite focused on the reason he was drinking in the first place.

For a full week now, he had thought of nothing but the giant turtle-man he had seen. He did not sleep, save for maybe a couple hours at a time when his body shut itself down against his will. At work, he moved as if on auto pilot, keeping answers short, focused not on whatever he was chopping or stirring but on what he had seen. When not at work, this took up all his time.

He’d spent days scouring the internet, which was quite frustrating since he never got the hang of using computers and frequently struggled with things most people found simple. He’d scrolled through page after page of conspiracy theories, urban legends, blurry pictures that didn’t prove much to a sane mind, but to him it all clicked into place perfectly. He’d already gone through an entire ream of printer paper, printing out everything that meant anything in the way of validation.

His apartment, which was usually kept in pristine condition, had fallen to disarray. It looked as though a tornado had torn through the living room, with papers strewn about in no specific order. The high end, polished and intricately designed furniture was all but hidden under the precariously stacked pages. Most of it was nonsense, barely evidence, but still worth saving.

So far, what he thought he knew, or what he could make sense of through the sleep-deprived cloud he existed in currently, was that there were at least two of these giant, humanoid turtles running around New York. They seemed to be some sort of secretive vigilantes, which made sense considering their physical attributes. He’d laughed to himself, thinking of a creature like that just walking down the crowded streets in broad daylight, the people around him scrambling to get away. Someone would inevitably call the police, bullets would fly, and they’d take his mangled body to a lab somewhere for research.

Well, Phillip wasn’t going to let that happen. Oh, no. He had very specific plans for this creature.

He had been watching for the hundredth time the news report from April O’Niel on the latest strange attack on the city, scanning over the footage with his face just inches from the screen when an alarm clock next to him went off, blaring loudly. Phillip had jumped, nearly falling from his chair. He had been so focused, the time had slipped away and as he squinted at the clock he couldn’t believe it was time for work already. Grudgingly he tore himself away from his work, hefting himself out of the dining room chair he’d been in for the last several hours. He never bothered to change out of his chef’s uniform from his shift the day before, and didn’t even notice the stains and wrinkles. He’d grabbed his wallet and keys and left as he was.

All eyes were on him as he entered the kitchen, though he didn’t seem to notice. There had been whisperings of his position at Rose Rouge being in jeopardy, due to his temperament and the way he treated the other staff. Phillip personally saw nothing wrong with his behavior, if at the end of the day he made delicious food and got management the ratings they wanted. Now it was silent as the staff watched him move about the kitchen. Phillip didn’t feel the eyes on him for several minutes, until he ran into someone head on. This seemed to clear his fog temporarily.

“What are you idiots looking at? Get to work!”

Several people were startled and quickly scattered to continue their various duties. All but one, who spoke up from several feet away, wondering if that was a safe enough distance.

“Management was looking for you,” he said, his voice loud and confident despite his shaking hands. He knew his boss was a ticking time bomb, and the consequences of poking him with a stick were usually severe, but he’d drawn the short straw this time around.

To his surprise, Chef Phillip did not explode, but looked excited, the anger dropping from his face and being replaced by a small, secretive smile. The employee took a small step back instinctively.

“Thank you, I’ll find them right away.”

Everyone watched him as he headed for the office.

The office was a small room just spacious enough for the two computer desks that faced each other. The two in charge of the restaurant, Robert and Geoffrey Stark, were brothers that had inherited the business from their father when he passed away suddenly. Originally they had kept it up with the intentions of selling, but the economy being what it was, offers were few and always too low. Eventually they just accepted that they were stuck their father’s legacy, and anyway the place did make them money. Especially since they’d hired Chef Phillip. He’d always been a bit odd, and boy did he have a temper, but he knew how to make food that kept customers begging for reservations, so there was a certain amount of poor behavior that the brothers were willing to let slide. Lately, however, he’d been crossing lines and they worried the image of the Rose Rouge may start to tarnish.

Phillip opened the office door without knocking, stepping in and closing the door behind him quickly. Taking in the wrinkled, mussed up uniform and the musky smell coming off him, the brothers glanced at one another.

“Phillip, we need to talk,” Robert, the older of the two started. He motioned for the chef to take a seat in the one extra chair in the corner, but he ignored him.

“We certainly do,” he replied. “I’ve been working on something big, HUGE.” His hands swung about animatedly while he spoke, and he was talking faster than normal. He seemed more manic than excited. “Now, it’ll take some time, and I might need a few days off to… acquire the right ingredients, but I promise you it will be worth it.”

Geoffrey cleared his throat, giving his brother a look. He didn’t like giving out bad news, much to Robert’s annoyance, but he especially did not like giving their head chef bad news. Robert resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his brother and stood to be level with the chef.

“Phillip, it turns out you’ll have plenty of time off, because you’re fired.” He kept his gaze steady, looking him right in the eye.

It was silent in the room for a moment. The tension in the room was palpable as they waited for the inevitable fallout.

“As I was saying, I’m working on a new recipe for the menu, and-“

“That’s great Phillip, but you’ll have to make it for some other restaurant. You are no longer welcome here,” Robert continued, speaking clearly and slowly to hit the message home.

Phillip’s gaze darkened as the news sank in.

“Fired? You’re firing ME?” His voice rose with each word until he was shouting, sound filling up the small room and no doubt echoing into the hall also. “I MADE this place what it is! If I’m gone, this whole place will go under, I guarantee it!” He shoved the door open and headed for the kitchen, leaving the brothers to stare after him, wide-eyed.

“FIRE _ME_!” he continued shouting as he stormed into the kitchen. Once there, he was like a tornado, reaching out and grabbing anything that wasn’t bolted down and throwing things in random directions. The kitchen staff scrambled out of the room, trying to avoid his wrath. Bowls, kitchen utensils, measuring cups, foods, huge pots filled with simmering soups and various sauces, all scattered on the ground and all over the countertops. Nothing was left untouched.

 Finally the police showed up and put him in handcuffs. He fought and struggled, covering himself in all the spilled liquids in the process, but he was no match for the three police officers. Eventually they shoved him into a cruiser, griping about the mess, and he spent the night in jail before bail was posted.

He’d come back to his apartment welcomed by the unchanged stacks of papers and a black computer screen. He was still in the ruined uniform, now a crusty, flaky brown gravy color. He’d swatted away the sheets of paper on his favorite chair, grabbed a bottle of his best chardonnay, and swore to himself as he took the first gulp straight from the bottle that he’d make that turtle soup, no matter the cost.


	5. Nosey Brothers

Michelangelo was perfectly aware of his reputation among his family as a bit of an airhead. He was forgetful, always spoke before thinking, and was borderline clumsy. He accepted all these flaws with a shrug and a smile, knowing he couldn’t change himself, and frankly he didn’t want to. In spite of his imperfections, he was easily the most perceptive when it came to his brothers and what they were going through. Empathy came naturally to him, allowing him to see things from his brother’s point of views easily. Annoyingly enough for him, it meant he couldn’t always be as angry with them as he wanted to be.

 Lately, however, Leo had him stumped.

It wasn’t like his eldest brother to get upset about things, usually able to center negative energy into their training and work through anything with a fierce focus that rivaled Master Splinter’s. Then last week he’d been so upset he didn’t finish his katas two days in a row, and since then he’d been more on his game than usual. He was even joking around with his brothers more, probably an attempt to pacify them after his previous behavior and help them to forget so he could avoid any explanations. For Donnie and Raph it seemed to work, them being too caught up in their own personal projects to want to delve too deeply. But Mikey noticed everything. And while he was wildly curious, he kept it to himself lest he set his brother off by asking about his sudden mood swings.

It had been a little over a week since Leo had switched to this new, improved Leo. They were about done with training, Mikey finishing the last of his sets with his chucks, when he happened to glance at Leo. As he moved through his sets there was a shadow of a smile on his face, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. This by itself didn’t catch the orange loving turtle off guard, until Leo chuckled to himself as if remembering something funny. And that look in his eyes… Donnie and Raph didn’t notice, but Mikey did.

That was it, Mikey decided. He was going to do some investigating. But he was going to need some help.

When Leo was finished with training, Mikey watched closely as he headed in the direction of the shower. This was his chance.

“Hey, Raph, come’ere a second.” He waved his brother closer. Donnie had gone already, back to his techno-cave. Raphael stretched his arms over his head and yawned loudly, set on taking a nap.

“What is it Mikey?”

“Leo has been acting weird lately. Don’t get me wrong, it’s totally cool that he seems happy and all, but like, something’s up that he isn’t saying.”

Raph rolled his eyes at his brother and yawned again. “So he’s in a good mood? So what?” He turned and took a step toward his room when his brother called over his shoulder.

“Well I guess you don’t wanna help me go through his stuff while he’s showering then.” Raph turned back, met with a knowing smirk on his brother’s face. Raph did have a weakness for snooping.

Knowing Leo, Raphael suspected they didn’t have much time. He headed off in the direction of Leo’s room without waiting for Mikey. Mikey chased after him chuckling at how easily his brother was swayed.

The door to Leonardo’s room was shut, but not locked. Raph listened carefully and could still hear the shower running, but he knew to err on the side of caution and nudged the door open slowly to avoid making any sound. He motioned with his chin for Mikey to follow as he carefully treads into their brother’s room. It was spic and span, per usual, not a dust bunny or wrinkled bedspread to complain about. Raph couldn’t help rolling his eyes every time he came in here. Leo really was just such a goody-goody.

They didn’t have to search long, it turned out. Mikey was looking over the few things on Leo’s dresser while Raph was splayed out on the ground, searching under the bed, pushing boxes aside to see if anything was hidden among them. The dresser top didn’t have much on it, a few knickknacks and personal things and mementoes, neatly arraigned. The only thing that stuck out was the little flip phone.

“Hey, Raph, I think I found something,” Mikey said excitedly.

Startled by the sudden sound, Raph lifted his head quickly and bonked himself on the metal bed frame, lifting it a good foot off the ground in the process. It came crashing back down loudly, causing both turtles to wince. Raph sat up on the floor, rubbing the back of his head and scowling. By the time he was standing next to Mikey to see what he’d found, Mikey had the phone open and was scrolling through Leo’s text messages.

“Every single one is from someone named Sam,” Mikey mumbled. Raph read the messaged over his shoulder as one after the other appeared on the tiny screen.

_Work is dull, keep me company?_

_Pretty slow?_

_Oh, you know, just the regulars._

_Sounds like you have company then._

_Well maybe I just prefer yours then, smartass. :3_

Raph smirked at that last comment. “Whoever Sam is, I like ‘em.”

Michelangelo continued to read through the messages, an elated grin spreading over his face, growing every time Leo tried to flirt. “Man, Leo sure needs help when it comes to talking to girls,” he said, and Raph chuckled.

“What the hell are you guys doing in my room?”

The two froze suddenly, and turned their heads to see a very upset Leonardo standing in the doorway. One could practically see the anger radiating off him in waves.

“It was Mikey’s Idea,” Raph muttered, crossing his arms. He should have known better, he chastised himself. Now he was gonna have to deal with the consequences of his curiosity.

Mikey threw his hands up and turned to Raphael. “Dude!” He wasn’t surprised about being thrown under the bus like that, but still!

“I don’t care whose idea it was, what the hell are you _doing_??” Leo was practically shouting now, getting more and more furious by the second.

Then he saw the phone in Mikey’s hand, and his blood ran cold.

“You were going through my phone?” His voice was quiet and steely now, and his brothers were silently scrambling to come up with excuses that might stave off the inevitably loud lecture coming their way.

Raphael decided that the direct route seemed the best.

“So who is this Sam chick anyway?”

“That’s none of your business! You don’t get to go through my things and then ask _me_ questions!”

“When do we get to meet her, huh? Is she cute? Do you _like_ her like her?” Mikey, obviously not listening to Leo’s last statement, started firing off questions rapidly. His excitement was mounting, and he felt like he was about to burst.

“Mikey, shut it!” Raph nudged him roughly.

“Ow! What??”

“Both of you, OUT!” Leo roared. The two scrambled past him, Mikey tossing him the phone before rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.

Leo stood there collecting himself for several moments, trying to get his anger under control before he did something he’d regret. How could they just go through his stuff like that? The complete lack of privacy and respect had him absolutely baffled.

He threw himself at his bed, burying his face in his hands and groaning loudly. They knew about Sam now. He really wasn’t ready for them to know anything yet, but now that they did, what the hell was he supposed to tell them? He couldn’t exactly keep hiding now, could he?

_Meet her?_ He scoffed at Mikey’s question. He must have assumed they’d already met in person. Leo thought that just talking on the phone had been a big step. He was sure he’d never be ready to meet, not if he wanted to preserve the… whatever it was they had. Not the way he was.

As if on que, the phone _ding!_ ’ed next to him, and he quickly flipped it open.

_I’ve decided I want to see a picture of you._

Leo stared at the words a moment, thinking how the gods must really have it out for him today. A picture? There was no way. He’d have to talk her out of it.

_No pictures._

Firm and simple, no wiggle room. But knowing Sam, he knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. It didn’t take long for her to reply.

_I’ll send you one if you send me one._

Leo sighed heavily. He _was_ pretty curious to see what she really looked like. From her voice, he knew she’d be cute. But, still, there was no way he could send her a picture of himself.

_You first,_ he said, hoping she’d take the bait. He didn’t like tricking her, but it was a mean to an end.

Her retort disappointed him. _Lol That isn’t how it works. I asked first._

Leo relented, thinking maybe he could go to Donnie for some assistance. No doubt his brother knew all about his new friend now anyway, with Mikey being the blabbermouth he was.

_Maybe_.

He snapped the phone shut and rolled over onto his shell, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. He didn’t like asking for favors, but he supposed if he had to ask someone, Donnie was the least annoying person to go to out of his brothers. The phone went off again, and when he opened it, he suddenly knew it would be worth it to go to Donnie for help. She had changed her mind after all and had sent him a photo of herself. Just a simple selfie, her head tilted to the side curiously so that a wave of dark hair fell over her shoulder, and a ghost of a smile curving her lips. Her bright blue eyes were only a shade darker than his own, and full of mischief.

She was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen.

Leo took several minutes to just stare at the picture without answering. She must have gotten impatient, because she sent a text that read _Picture or no phone call tonight_ letting him know that she meant business.

Leo sighed again, hefting himself up off the bed before heading for Donnie’s lab. He normally avoided that corner of the lair, mostly out of respect for Donnie, but also because the clutter tended to make him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how his brother got anything done, to be frank, with the seemingly random piles of _stuff_ stacked precariously around him. Donnie claimed it was all important, but Leo suspected that he was just a hoarder.

As he approached his brother, Donnie was in his computer chair crafted out of old skateboards that curved perfectly to accommodate his shell. He was staring at several monitors, all of which had a different subject on the screen, and he was muttering to himself quietly as his eyes flicked from one screen to the next.

“Hey, uh, Don?” Leo said, clearing his throat. Donnie started out of his trance, his magnifying goggles falling down over his eyes. He shoved them back up and looked at his brother, smiling.

“Hey, Leo. What’s up?” He got out of his chair and stretched before moving to one of the tables with microscopes and bottles filled with oddly colored fluids. He gingerly picked up one test tube and examined it closely.

“Uh, well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.” Leo fidgeted with the end of his blue mask as he spoke, feeling awkward as he watched his brother move about the lab.

“A favor?” At this, Donnie looked up, focused only on his brother. “What kind of favor?”

“Well, I was wondering if you had some way of, uh… Well, if we looked like, you know, people, what exactly would we look like?” Leo nearly rolled his eyes at how dumb he sounded.

“You wanna know what you’d look like as a human?” Donnie asked, sounding a bit surprised. Leo was the last person he’d have thought would be asking for this kind of thing.

“Yeah, that’s right. Can you do that?”

Donnie hurried back to the computer without answering right away, closing several windows with swift clicks of the mouse, then started typing, his three large digits flying across the keyboard. “I actually already have a program made for this to make some of my online profiles seem more realistic,” he said a bit sheepishly. This didn’t really surprise Leonardo. It was easy to assume that Donnie had a bunch of people online that he talked to. “I just need to take a picture of the real you and scan it in,” he continued, grabbing his smart phone and holding it up, barely giving Leo enough time to pose before snapping the picture and sending it to his computer.

Leo watched the picture materialize on one of the monitors, pursing his lips. He wished Donnie had taken a better one. It turned out that it didn’t matter anyway as Donatello ran his program, and little by little the picture morphed into one of a normal human man, showing from the waist up with arms crossed confidently, a tight smile on his pink, human lips. He was clean cut, with dark blonde hair and clear blue eyes like his own, and lightly tanned skin. He had a strong jaw, and really, wasn’t bad looking at all.

“If I were human… I’d look like this?”

Donnie shrugged as he made some tweaks to the background, putting Human Leo outside in a park instead of in a sewer. “More or less. It’s not a perfect science, but I think I’ve gotten it pretty close.” He grinned up at his brother, happy with his work. “You like?”

Leo stared at the picture and thought about it. He had mixed feelings, honestly, regretting for the first time not taking some of that mutagen before Raph had thrown it against the wall. He didn’t answer the question.

“Could you send that to my phone?’ he asked instead.

Donnie grinned, and after a few quick clicks, Leo had it on his phone. He thanked his brother and headed back to his room. He hesitated before forwarding it to Sam. Was this like lying? Was it a worse lie than any other he’d had to tell her? Leo chewed his lip, going back and forth, before finally hitting send. He shut the phone and waited nervously for a reply.

When she did answer, there was no comment on the picture, just _I’ll call you after work._ And a smiley face. Leo chuckled to himself. He supposed that was her way of saying she was pleased.

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It was Mikey’s turn for patrol that night, and he was glad to be out of the sewers and away from his brother Leo. Rightfully so, he’d given Raph and him the cold shoulder the entire day, making sure they knew they were far from forgiven. As much as this bothered Mikey, he knew Leo would get over it eventually, especially if he apologized. He wasn’t too prideful for that, once he’d given Leo some time to cool off. Raph would never, but Mikey was sure Leo wouldn’t expect him to.

In the meantime, he was enjoying his time away, practically flying from one rooftop to the next on his familiar path through the city. He didn’t have to focus on where he was going, he knew the way to his favorite perch like the back of his hand. Instead he focused on the implications of his findings today. He had been smiling all day in spite being on Leo’s bad side, because he was just so _happy_ for his brother.

If anyone deserved love in their life, it was Leonardo. Mikey had a good feeling about this Sam girl, and if the texts he’d read over were any indication, she really did seem to like Leo.

He found his way to his favorite billboard, sitting at the edge of the roof of a high-rise hotel. The best part of all this, really, was that if Leo had found someone, what was stopping himself from finding a girl, too? Or any of his brothers, for that matter. Leo certainly wouldn’t be able to object to him forming relationships, anyway. Mikey hadn’t thought it possible to have a normal relationship before, excluding April of course, but that was different. But possibilities were opening up now that he couldn’t help being excited for.

Michelangelo was just about to move on through the rest of his patrol when he heard a noise behind him, the door to the roof access elevator sliding open. Panicking, he scrambled for a hiding place, but it was too late. A rather large man rushed out with some sort of firearm, aimed for Mikey, and pulled the trigger. A net unfurled itself and soared toward the turtle, but he was much too quick and rolled out of the way easily.

“My, don’t you look _delicious_!” the man exclaimed, keeping his aim on Mikey.

“I mean, I’ve been working out,” Mikey said flexing his biceps while backing up toward the edge of the roof by the alley. “But something tells me you aren’t looking for a date, so I’d better be on my way.”  


Chef Philip was about to reply when the turtle launched himself off the roof. Alarmed, he hurried to the edge, looking first at the ground and expecting to see a flattened turtle on the sidewalk. Instead, the creature was leaping from one fire escape to the next until he reached the ground, twenty stories below, and disappeared down the alley.

“Damn!” he shouted, throwing the net gun to the ground. It had taken over a week to find one of them, and he’d been _so close_. He stamped his feet in frustration like a child. He was just picking up his _useless_ weapon from the ground when he heard a woman’s voice from a shadowed corner of the rooftop.

“You want to catch the mutant turtles?”

Startled, Phillip spun around, searching wildly for the source of the voice when a tall, thin Japanese woman with red streaks in her black hair stepped out from the shadows.

“Who are you?” he spit at her, annoyed. “What do you want?”

She chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say, I’m here to help. “

He eyed her suspiciously. “Why would you help me?”

“Because the enemy of my enemy is a friend,” she replied cryptically. With that, she held out a glass container with a slightly luminescent purple ooze, and smiled.

 


End file.
